


The Dead Still Dream

by YamiPikachu



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, bethyl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 02:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18306491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YamiPikachu/pseuds/YamiPikachu
Summary: A slow burn fic with Daryl and Beth. I had originally posted this over on FF.net but decided to post it over here too, as I feel the community is a little more involved here.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

The prison gates dragged open, allowing Daryl to ride his motorbike up the beaten path and into the safety perimeters. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes as he rode, his vision swimming in and out of focus. He heard the gates drag shut back behind him as he attempted to pull himself off of the bike, clutching at his side. The effort required caused him to groan out loud, his vision beginning to blur.

'Daryl,' he heard the sound of Glen's voice, but he couldn't make out from where.

'Daryl, are you okay man?!' more urgent now.

Daryl tried to get himself off of the bike again, but he had drained all of his energy making it back to the prison. He glanced down at his side to see the crimson blood seeping through his own fingers, intermingled with mud and grime. Suddenly he felt hands on his shoulders, and Glenn swam in to view.

'What happened?' he demanded, his voice steady but urgent.

'Fell,' Daryl grunted.

He could hear Glenn calling for Maggie and soon he could feel himself being dragged upright and off of his bike. Noises buzzed around him as he struggled to focus on any one thing, his head pounded and the gaping wound in his side continued to bleed profusely as he groggily worried about the state of his bike.

'Beth, Beth!' he could hear Maggie's twang calling to her little sister, 'Beth we're gonna need your help baby! Daddy's still bedridden, but you know what to do!'

'I don't-' a voice stammered, as Daryl felt himself laid down onto a cold surface.

'You do, Beth, you've been with him, working, he's been teaching you!'

'Okay, okay,' flustered, Beth began to gather all that she needed, 'remove his shirt,' she said, pointing to the man laying on the infirmary bed, 'and keep him awake!'

'Okay, okay - Daryl, can you hear me?' Maggie spoke as Glenn set to work removing Daryl's vest and shirt, feeling the fabric away from the sticky mass of blood.

'Christ, what happened?' Beth gasped, seeing the wound in Daryl's side.

'I'm not sure, he said he fell.' Glenn said. 'Is it bad?'

'It's deep, yeah. But he'll be fine. He should be fine.' Beth nodded as she set to work washing and clearing out the area.

She wiped layers of mud and soil and filth from the area as the blood continued to drain out onto her hands. The gash was deep and nasty so she wanted to minimise any risk of infection from the dirt. He already appeared delirious and if fever had gripped him, he would have a harder time fighting anything off. She took her time to clean and sterilise it, the flow of blood finally easing up, but never stopping. Both Glenn and Maggie stayed by and helped as best they could, wincing once she began the operation of stitching the flesh back together, pulling the flapping sections tissue back together over the steadily running opening. Daryl groaned and moaned all the while, occasionally moving and having to be restrained by Glen or Maggie, who held him down by the chest, but he didn't speak. So long as he was conscious, Beth considered him okay. She was no nurse, the only training she had was from watching her own Daddy, but she had picked it up quickly and could work swiftly and precisely with her small hands. Long ago, she had planned to become a vet, so gore and wounds did not phase or upset her, which was lucky for Daryl. Once Beth had stitched the skin together and bandaged the wound, she took a step back and breathed a heavy sigh.  
'Daddy would be proud, Beth,' Maggie said to her little sister, somewhat breathless, as she pat her on her arm.

Beth nodded grimly, pushing her blonde hair back from out of her eyes. She left a streak of Daryl's blood through her blonde hair like a macabre highlight, her face covered in a light sheen of sweat, her hands and arms blood stained.

'We can clean up, if you want to go-' Maggie began, glancing at Glenn as she spoke.

'No, no,' Beth shook her head, 'I can do it. Faster, too. You two get back to your duties... we all have our jobs to do.' She flashed Maggie a smile, which she reciprocated.

The two of them removed their selves from the room, Glenn taking Maggie's hand in his own as Beth watched them leave. She looked down at the man on the bed, his brows furrowed together in pain. She had never had many dealings with Daryl Dixon, preferring to stay out of the older man's sight, his glare and general demeanour putting her on edge, so it was weird to see him lying there, helpless, and in  _her_ care.

She felt a rush of pride at herself for having helped him - he would probably never have thought she would ever be useful to him. He had become a respected member of their group, despite the sour disposition he projected to most people other than Rick and sometime Carol. He was a good hunter and a strong fighter, so it seemed weird to Beth that it had been her who had helped him – maybe even saved his life? Feeling pleased with herself, she set about tidying the room, cleaning and removing the soiled wash-cloths and wiping away the blood and dirt. Once that was done, she gingerly went over to inspect Daryl. He appeared to have fallen asleep, so Beth very gingerly reached out to place the back of her hand against his forehead, brushing the strands of hair which were plastered to his face aside. He felt hot and clammy. A little worried, Beth fetched a cold towel and pressed it gently to his head.

'Hey,' Carol's voice made Beth jump, her gaze snapping up from Daryl's face. 'Looks like you did a good job. How is he?'

'He's alright, a little hot,' Beth said, gesturing to the towel, 'but I think he'll be okay.'

'Your dad knows what you did, he's proud of you,' Carol smiled her warm, friendly smile. Beth smiled back, glancing back down to Daryl.

'I can take over if you'd like,' Carol said, stepping further into the room.

'Okay,' Beth nodded, handing Carol the towel, 'come find me if you need me.'

'Alright, thanks honey.' Carol said, returning to Daryl to take over from where Beth had just been, 'you go rest up.'

. . .

It was evening, and Beth was sitting alone in the prison canteen, absent-mindedly picking at her food. She had showered, standing up the lukewarm water for some time, watching Daryl's blood run off of her and disappear down the drain. She had found it hard to rest or relax for the rest of the day, worrying her doctoring skills had not been as good as she had hoped, or as the others had expected. Had they put too much faith in her? If something happened, if the wound became infected because of a mistake on her behalf, and anything happened to Daryl, she would never forgive herself. Daryl was a key member of their society. As she sat in the canteen now, musing these potential scenarios, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carol wander into the room. She wondered whether Carol had been with Daryl the last couple of hours, whether he had shown any signs of life. Pushing her plate aside, she made her way over to the older woman.  
'Hey, Carol,' she said as she reached her, 'have you been with Daryl?'

'I have,' Carol smiled at her.

'Is he... okay?' Beth asked, feeling weirdly awkward.

'He seems to be doing well, yes,' Carol said, 'I left Rick with him.'

'Oh right,' Beth nodded.

'Go and check on him if you want to,' Carol said.

'Oh no I'm sure he's fine,' said Beth, waving her hand as if to wave it away, 'Rick's with him.'

'Rick won't mind,' Carol said.

Beth chewed the inside of her cheek, pondering. She knew she needed to see for herself, or there was no chance of her sleeping tonight.

'Okay,' she said, 'I will.'

She left Carol to her food and made her way down to the infirmary, knocking gently on the door to announce her arrival to Rick, who was perched on the stool beside Daryl, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands laced together in front of his face.

'Hey, Rick,' she said softly. He turned to look at her, then smiled and put his hands down on his thighs.

'Beth,' he nodded, 'come to check on your patient?'

Beth chuckled, a little embarrassed.

'I guess. Wanted to make sure his wounds hadn't gotten worse or infected or anything.'

'You did a good job,' Rick said soberly, 'he's doing well.'

Beth wandered over to him.

'He's still sleeping?' she asked nervously.

'Yeah. He seems to have a fever, but I think he'll be okay. He seems over the worst of it now.'

'Right,' Beth nodded.

She noticed blood had begun to seep through the bandage at his side. 'I should redress that,' she said, pointing, 'I mean, unless you want to or-'

'No, you go on ahead,' Rick said, standing up and stretching. He ran his hand over his beard and yawned. 'You okay for a bit? I'm going to go grab some to eat.'

'I'm fine,' Beth smiled, 'you go. I can stay here for a while.'

Rick nodded, then said 'you're a real good kid, Beth.' before he left the room.

Beth smiled after him, genuinely happy to feel like she was contributing. She had always felt a little outside the group - she wasn't respected and wise like her daddy, wasn't a level-headed fighter like her sister. She was just...there, taking up space. She hated to see anyone hurt, but tending to Daryl had allowed her to prove her worth, even if it was just for a little while.

'How badly would you have fared without me, Mr Dixon?' she said softly as she peeled back his dressing to inspect the wound. Someone, perhaps Carol, had drawn a blanket over him, which she had pulled back to get to the wound. As her fingers brushed his skin, she felt the burning heat rise from him. She couldn't help but glance over his torso, across the lightly muscular frame, the broad chest, the occasional ink-work. Her stomach suddenly fluttered and she found herself swallowing hard. Daryl scared her so much she had never really looked at him, but out cold like this, she could appreciate what some of the other women in the prison had said about him. As she redressed his wound, she felt her hands shaking a little.

'Get a grip,' she whispered to herself. She replaced the blanket, then dragged the stool over to the wall, where she sat herself, facing towards the door. If she stared at Daryl any longer, her mind would start playing tricks on her.

Beth opened her eyes; she had drifted to sleep. Shaking her head, she turned to see her patient was still sleeping, although his features looked a lot more peaceful now. She got up and chanced a peek at the bandage, which still looked fresh and good. Turning back around, she headed to the sink in the corner and began to splash her face with cold water. Feeling refreshed, she began to move things around the room, tidying and organising things a little. She sung softly as she did so, a habit she was barely even aware of doing any more. After a little while, she turned back around, and almost jumped out of her skin when she realised Daryl was looking at her.

'You're awake!' she gasped, her hand flying to her chest.

He cleared his throat, his brows furrowing. He made to get up, but Beth rushed over to him and put her hands on his chest.

'Don't get up!' she said quickly, 'you might tear your stitches!'

Daryl stared at her, his eyes glazed and confused, then looked down at her hands on his chest. Beth pulled them away as though he had just suddenly seared red hot beneath her touch.

'Ya stictched me?' he grunted, his voice was rough and gravelly. He cleared his throat again.

'Yeah,' she said, her voice shaking a little, 'you - you had this real deep wound, I fixed it up for you.'

'Mm,' he grunted, closing his eyes as he lay his head back on the pillow, 'right.'

'I - how are you feeling?' Beth asked softly, playing with the hem of her shirt.

'Head fuckin' poundin',' he said gruffly, raising the arm on his good side to knead at his closed eyes.

'Okay, but you don't feel... sick?' she asked. He shook his head very slightly.

'Right, well I'll get you some water, and then I guess you will want to sleep it off some more,' she said.

'Mm, sound's good,' he muttered.

'Okay. Well, I'm glad you're okay,' she said, then cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. Her voice sounded wrong in her own ears, and the infirmary suddenly seemed very small and very hot. Daryl lay with his arm lay across his face, sparing Beth her embarrassment. She made him up a glass of water, and set it down on the stool which she replaced beside his bed.  
'Goodnight, then,' she said. He grunted his response, but nothing more, so Beth left him alone in the room, figuring a guy like Daryl needed to be alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

It was early when Daryl opened his eyes. His entire body felt stiff and sore, but the headache which had plagued him earlier had abated somewhat. He gingerly reached down to the bandages at his side, testing the intensity of the pain. He groaned, clamped his teeth down, and then sat himself up. So long as he was careful and slow, the stitches shouldn't tear. Providing the girl had done a good job. Daryl respected her daddy, he was a good, methodical man who Rick trusted, and Daryl trusted Rick. But he had never had many dealings with the girl, who was young and quiet, kept herself to herself. Daryl respected that, it was how he himself preferred to be. The others must have trusted her to fix him up, so he wasn't too worried.

The pain in his side was strong, but it wasn't overwhelming, so he pulled himself up and grabbed his shirt. It was bloodied and torn, but it would do for now. As he left he room, heading for his own bunk, he remembered the girl's singing; the soft sound of her quiet voice punctuating the stuffy air of the infirmary had been what woke him. Coming to in a world of pain, Daryl had been confused by the sound of it. He barely remembered getting back to the prison, let alone being fixed up, so upon gaining consciousness he had not been entirely confident on where he was – had he even made it back? He half expected to find himself laying in the middle of nowhere, nothing but the sounds of the approaching walkers to wake him. So the sound of her singing had been completely unexpected. It had calmed him, as he woke with the tendrils of panic still creeping at the edges of his consciousness. The girl's voice had gently but firmly knocked those away, as though her voice had breathed onto his mind, blowing away the worry. Daryl had been grateful.

He got to his own cell and pulled on a fresh shirt, ignoring the pain that seared in his side as he raised his arms. Yet more waves of relief washed over him as he spotted his crossbow, laying in wait for him on his own bed.  _These are good people_ he suddenly thought, surprising himself.

. . .

Beth's own morning was punctuated with the sounds of a baby's giggle – Judith. Over time, she had found herself in position of primary care-giver to the baby girl. She didn't mind, it was just as important a job as any other. Judith hadn't asked to be born into a world of chaos and hurt, so the least they could do was make it as easy and happy for her as they could. Beth sat on the floor of the common room, tickling the baby's chin, cooing at her and just generally making her chuckle. She liked the baby; she was a sign of everything Beth sought for in the new world – innocence, goodness. Something which was not easily recognisable in people now, not any more.

As morning ticked over in to afternoon, Beth found her way down to the small farm area they had created – as a farmer's daughter, this was where she felt most comfortable. Once again, however, she found herself longing for a horse. Riding had been one of her favourite past times, the exhilarating sense of freedom it had brought. Life now was hard, and adjusting to it was even harder, and sometimes Beth found herself longing for the ways of the time before - before everything had turned to shit. She tugged her sleeve down as she walked, making sure to entirely cover the scar that ran its way across her wrist. There were times in her past where she had been weak, and the pressures of the new world had grown too strong for her, but she was determined not to be liked that any more. She was alive, and so long as she breathed she would always find something to stay alive for. Glancing down towards the fence, she was surprised to see Daryl. He was clearing the walkers with the others, stabbing them through the chain link. Frowning, Beth paused to watch for a while. She was unsure whether he should be exerting so much physical energy after what had happened. Biting her lip, she shifted her weight from one foot to the next. She doubted very strongly that he would appreciate being told what to do by her – but that was her handy work keeping his side in one piece, and she felt an obligation to keep it that way. Taking a deep breath, she changed course and headed down to the fence. As she grew closer to the older man, she could see the light sheen of sweat lacing the muscles of his arms as he expertly moved them. She cleared her throat.

'Uh, Daryl,' she called. He paused in his exercise and turned to look at her, his face impassive.

'I'm not sure you should be doing that, what with-' she gestured to his side.

'I'm fine,' he grunted, turning back away from her to face the walker currently chomping at the bit to get to him. He plunged his knife straight into the forehead of the thing, then heavily yanked the knife back out. Rotten blood spurted out of the hole, covering his arm, before the walker, finally actually dead, fell to the ground, only to be trampled on and replaced by another.

'Can I see,' Beth said.

'Wha'?' Daryl turned back to look at her, frowning.

'The stitches. Can I see them, make sure they're doing okay.' She repeated, attempting to keep her voice from cracking.

'I told ya they're fine,' he said, 'you aint no doctor, I know wha' stitches should look like m'self.'

'Okay, but, well, I did them and – and if they get infected or – or tear – then that's my fault-' she began twisting the hem of the sleeve between her fingers.

Daryl sighed audibly, threw down the knife, and stormed over to her. As he did, he yanked his shirt up, revealing the clean white bandage on his side. He came to a stop in front of her, holding his top slightly up his belly, his eyes looking down at his own wound.

Beth gingerly leant forward, her small fingers softly prodding at the skin around the bandage. Daryl seemed to suck in his breath at her touch, but he didn't move away. Carefully, Beth peeled away the dressing, to peer at the light stitches holding him together.

'S'it gonna scar?' Daryl grunted, making Beth jump.

'No, no I don't think so.' she shook her head, replacing the bandage. 'They look fine.'

'See. I told ya,' he huffed, letting his top fall back down.

'Yeah. But maybe find something a little less … physical to do,' she suggested.

Daryl huffed again, then turned his back to her and walked away. Beth watched him go, stooping to retrieve the knife from where he had left it. He returned to the fence and continued skewering the head's of the remaining walkers. She sighed. He was stubborn, but she hadn't expected any different. If she said she had believed he would listen to her, take her advice, she'd be lying. So she turned her own back on him, heading back up towards the veg patch.

As Daryl plunged his knife into the skull of yet another walking meat-bag, he couldn't help but wonder about Beth. He hated anyone telling him what to do or interfering with him. Her touch had made him uncomfortable, but somewhere inside him was that same, unfamiliar feeling of gratitude. They didn't know each other, but she knew him well enough to expect to have her head bitten off if she tried to tell him what to do – yet she had done it anyway. A strange sense of guilt seemed to join the gratitude. She had potentially saved his life, and he treated her like a jerk. It was his go to reaction, he wasn't about to apologise for it. But the interaction had made him feel weird, none the less.  
_She don't care 'bout me, she just wants to check up on her handiwork_ he told himself, as his knife made contact with another mushed up brain. And there was nothing wrong with that. It only bothered him that her handiwork happened to be on his body.

. . .

The dull, throbbing pain in his side caused Daryl to wake with a grunt. All around him was dark and silent, the small cell room in which he slept bathed in the blanket of night. He lay there for a while, on his back, looking up at the iron crosswork of the underneath of the bunk above him – empty, of course. He didn't share. The mattress beneath him creaked as he pushed himself up, careful not to cause any more pain to his side. He was exhausted, but then he always was. He had never been much of a sleeper before the fall, but now it was even worse. Being shut up didn't help matters either. He supposed most others felt safer, protected within the confines of the prison walls. But him? He missed the outside, missed the wind, the trees, the quiet peace it brought. Cooped up inside, he felt like a caged animal. It wasn't right. Rick had forbid him for hunting until his stitches were fully healed – he'd obeyed, because he both trusted and respected Rick, but he resented it. It had been a ridiculous accident, stupidity on his part. If it hindered his ability to leave the prison grounds... well. He crunched his teeth together, grinding them. This was no use. His side throbbed louder now, yelling at him, reminding him how stupid he was. In a fit of anger, he grabbed the pillow he had been sleeping on and threw it across it the room, where it hit the wall with a very dull thud, then landed on the floor softly. That hadn't helped. Sighing, he pulled himself up and left his cell.

He needed something to numb the pain. A stiff drink would do best, but he knew better than to expect to find any of that within these walls. So instead he headed towards the infirmary, where he was sure he would find painkillers of some sort. They had definitely swept a pharmacy at some point, and the girl had had the materials and tools to fix him up well enough, so it was a good bet, and the only one available to him.

As he rounded the infirmary a soft, familiar sound struck him, drifting through the quiet of the night to reach him. He paused, frowning, turning his head towards the sound. It was singing, and he was pretty sure it was Beth. Stationary for a moment, he paused to listen. It was a very sweet sound, but it sounded sad. Daryl continued on his way, finding the sound grew as he walked. As he reached the door to the room he sought he saw Beth, with her back to him, singing softly to Judith. He could see she was feeding her, and the baby was gazing up at Beth with her big brown eyes. Beth was very gently rocking her to and fro, occasionally gently stroking her small, chubby face. Daryl was struck by the sight. It was so intimate, so tender, he almost felt bad for watching. Beth's hair was pulled up high onto her head so he could see the soft curve of her pale neck, could see the way her shoulders rose and fell as she sung, the way her hips swayed as she rocked the baby. He was overcome with an emotion he was not at all familiar with, and could not understand. A strange, tingling sensation seemed to rise from the pit of his stomach, a shiver ran down his spine as she sung. He could no longer decide if he was very cold, or very hot. Feeling weird and awkward standing in the doorway, he cleared his throat. If she turned and caught him lurking – staring - god knows what she would think.

'Daryl!' she gasped as she spun round. Daryl could see the dark circles under her eyes, the look of tired dejection that accompanied them.

'I jus' wanted somethin' to ease this pain,' he said, nodding down at his side.

'Oh, oh of course,' Beth nodded. Daryl could see the heat rising in her cheeks. He dropped his gaze down to the baby in her arms, who was still staring up at the girl.

'Where's Rick?' he asked.

'Oh, he's on watch duty,' Beth said, looking down at the baby in her arms and smiling at her, 'but I look after this little one quite a lot.' She smiled, but Daryl could see it didn't quite reach her eyes. A look he was all too familiar with.

'Y'okay?' he asked, a little awkwardly, his voice sounding surlier and gruffer than he had intended it to.

'Oh, yeah,' she smiled, glancing up at him, 'I don't know, I guess... I guess I never expected life to be like this. I mean, no one did, obviously, but I always saw myself growing up and finishing college and getting married and having my own baby.' She smiled, looking down at Judith's little face as she did so, 'It's stupid, really, but I guess it's hard to know that will never happen now, not any more.'

'Mm,' Daryl was way out of his depth, he lingered awkwardly in the doorway.

'Sorry,' Beth shook her head, feeling stupid, 'painkillers, right?'

'Yeah,' he nodded, feeling relieved the out-pour of emotions was over.

'They're just over there,' she said, gesturing with her head towards a cabinet. Daryl nodded, and headed in the direction. He felt on edge, but he wasn't sure why. His finely honed hunter instincts had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, but when he glanced back over his shoulder, Beth had turned away from him and was focused back on Judith. He let his breath out and found the pack she had meant.

'A'right' he said, as she turned back around.

'You get the right ones?' she asked, coming closer to him.

'Uh huh' Daryl nodded, looking down at Judith. Her big eyes had turned towards him.

'You sleep well, lil' ass kicker,' he said to her, reaching out to stroke a tiny strand of hair from her forehead. She wriggled in Beth's arms and flashed him a gummy smile.

'Maybe you should look after her from now on,' Beth teased, smiling down at her little head

'Nah,' Daryl huffed, 'I aint never had much dealin' with babies.'

'Well this one seems to like you,' Beth said, looking up at him. He caught her eye and for a moment, and kept it. Beth felt as if she was being searched, he looked at her with such a strong intensity as if trying to figure her out. She held his gaze, allowing him the time to see if he could find whatever it was he was looking for. Just as she felt her heart begin to race, he dropped his gaze.

'Well, night,' he grunted, then headed out of the room.

Beth let out a long breath she hadn't even been aware of holding.

'What did you think about that, ay?' she whispered to the little girl in her arms, 'the big scary man doesn't scare you, does he? No,' she nuzzled the baby's cheek, hearing Judith giggle again. 'I'm not sure he scares me, neither.'

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

Hershel was chatting idly to Beth about the best time to plant certain crops from his place in bed. He still maintained the belief that they could get a good agricultural farming system going, with livestock too. Beth listened happily; she was just glad he was up and talking.

Hershel had been bedridden with a bad case of influenza , most likely brought on by both the physical and mental effort of the tense farm escape.

Beth, however, was feeling more optimistic than she had in days; her daddy was better, Judith had been in the care of her own daddy the night before so she had slept the whole night through, and the sun was shining outside. She had come to visit her father after picking a few crops to show him, which had spurred on this talk. He sat on his own bed, his back propped up against the wall with some pillows, as Beth sat on the chair in front of him, her elbows resting on her thighs, head in hands. A light tap on the door frame caused them to both look round, Hershel's sentence railing off.

It was Daryl. Beth's heart announced his arrival to her by attempting to escape her ribcage.

'Daryl, come on in son, I heard all about your injuries, and this one here patched ya up right as reign, aye?' Hershel smiled at the man, winking over at Beth as he mentioned her.

'Mhmm,' Daryl nodded, 'how're y'doing?'

'Much better,' Hershel beamed, nodding. 'These walls keeping us tight and safe, allowing me time to recover, and the beautiful faces of my two girls, who I can only say I am blessed to still have!' Beth blushed deeply as her father spoke, looking down at her own hands in her lap as her cheeks burned.

'How can I help you, Daryl?'

'Actually,' Daryl said, a little gruff, 'it was your daugh'er I was lookin' for – these stitches.' He waved his hand in the general direction of his wound as explanation.

'Oh, you're called upon,' Hershel said, setting himself back against his pillows and smiling warmly at his youngest child.

'Maybe you should do it, Daddy, I-' Beth began, but the old man waved his hand.

'No, you're capable my girl, I need my rest. You go, go on.'

Knowing when she was being told what to do, Beth got up and gestured for Daryl to lead the way. She glanced back over at her father as she left, who was smiling encouragingly at her, his blue eyes sparkling.

. . .

Daryl had already reached the infirmary as Beth got there, so she gestured for him to sit on the bed.  
'You want to – uh, move that?' she said, meaning his shirt. Daryl lifted the hem of the shirt, revealing the bandage.

'Alright,' Beth said, gathering what she would need, 'this might hurt.' Daryl nodded, solemn.

Slowly, Beth began to remove the stitches, quite pleased with herself to see all had healed well; there was barely eve a scar.

'How'd your learn this,' Daryl asked, causing Beth to look up. He was watching her work.

'My dad's been teaching me,' she said.

'You're not … squeamish?' Daryl asked.

Beth chuckled.

'I think I'd be hard pressed to be squeamish in this world any more, Daryl,' she laughed, 'but no. You think just because I'm a girl I'm going to run a mile – or swoon - at blood?'

Daryl just shrugged, so Beth laughed again, lightly shaking her head, her lose hair falling about her face in bouncing curls.

'No. I wanted to be a vet, anyway. Couldn't be squeamish to do that, could I?' she glanced up to see he was still looking at her, 'figure there can't be much difference between humans and animals.'

'Nah,' Daryl said, his voice deep. It spread a shiver down Beth's spine, which she tried to ignore.

'Besides, I need to earn my keep some way.' Beth added.

'Your keep?' Daryl asked.

'Yeah,' Beth said, cleaning the wound as she finished. 'My daddy always says 'everyone's got their jobs to do.' I guess this will have to be mine. There's not much else I can do to help around out here.'

'Hmm,' Daryl let his shirt drop back down now she was finished, 'how'd you mean?'

'Well,' she shrugged, 'I can't fight, I can't hunt, I'm no use to anyone where any of that is concerned. I don't need to be, anyway,' she added, looking up and catching his eye, 'that's why we have you.'

'Hm,' Daryl huffed, slowly running his hand over the scratchy beard of his chin. 'I can teach ya.'

'What?' Beth asked, taken aback.

'I can teach ya,' he repeated, 't' hunt. To fight.'

'Really?' Beth asked, excited, 'you'd do that?'

'I aint always gonna be around.' he shrugged, 'c'mon, s'join target practice.'

Beth stared at him for a minute, her heart in her throat.

'Okay,' she finally said, 'I just need to clean this up.'

'Fine,' Daryl said, 'I'll be outside.' Then he hoisted himself off of the bed and left the room.

Daryl was a lone wolf; he preferred to keep to himself and do things by himself, but he felt a little indebted to the young girl. She was so small and fragile, it wouldn't hurt to help her learn to defend herself. Rick and the others trusted and valued his opinion, but he still often felt like an outsider, and he was starting to believe the girl felt a similar way. Both her dad and her sister were valued members of their community, but Beth, she shrunk in to the background, getting grouped in with the kids but at the same time responsible for looking after them. How old was she, anyway?

Daryl mused over this as he headed outside and down to where they shot practice. Older than Carl, he thought, but how much older he didn't know. Besides, Carl acted so much older than he was. Daryl supposed having Rick as a father would do that to a kid. Kid or not, there was an innocent weakness to the girl, and Daryl thought showing her how to use a gun could only help her.

Beth found him down by the makeshift range, weighing up a gun in his hand. She cleared her throat as she approached, feeling a lot more nervous than was necessary.

'A'right,' Daryl said, handing her the gun, which she took gingerly, 'you know how t' shoot?'

'A little. I mean, I practiced a bit back at the farm, you know, but I guess I never saw the need to here.' She said, glancing at him.

'S'stupid,' Daryl gruffed, 'should always be ready. Aim for the head.'

Beth did, lining the gun up at the target, already ridden with bullet holes. She closed one eye and squeezed the trigger. Miss. Completely missed the target.

'I'm rusty,' she said apologetically, turning to look at him, lowering the gun.

Daryl chucked her a half smile.

'Here,' he approached her, taking her arms and putting them back into position. 'Focus through y'body, hold this arm stiff.' His hands were strong and firm on her, his face focused. He positioned himself a little closer, folding one arm across her, putting the flat of his palm against her shoulder to push it back slightly. Doing so pushed her body into his as he stood behind her. She became hyper aware of how close he was to her, feeling the warmth radiate from him into her. His face was almost touching her own as he lined up the gun, his hand over her smaller one. He moved his hand along her arm to rest at her elbow, then said 'now.'

Beth squeezed the trigger a second time, this time the bullet flew straight into the head of the target.

'Yes!' she squealed, turning her head to look at Daryl over her shoulder.

'Good,' he gruffed, as she beamed at him, 'again.'

He wasn't looking at her, so Beth turned back around and lined the gun up of her own. Using all of her concentration, she shot off another bullet, hitting the neck this time. She proceeded to fire all of the rounds, then turned to him again. He looked pleased.

'Tha' was good,' he said, looking down at her. Beth felt as though her body was burning. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as the adrenaline coursed through her veins, her breathing heavy. She caught Daryl's gaze and saw his brows knit together slightly. Just as she felt the heat between them was at burning point, he dropped her arms and stepped away. The connection was broken. He turned away from her.

'Should we keep practicing?' she said, her voice breathy.

''Nother time,' he said, beginning to walk away.

'Oh,' he heard the disappointment in her voice, but he didn't look back. Instead he headed back towards the prison, shaking out his hands as he did so.

As he stalked away, he inwardly cursed himself for being so stupid. His intentions were entirely innocent but something had sizzled between them just now. They had been close, Daryl could smell her shampoo, feel her breathing against him. It had been so long since he had had any human contact of any kind it had thrown him off guard. Not to mention she was young and undoubtedly impressionable, he couldn't afford to make mistakes here. Not that he had any ideas, a pretty young girl like her would ever look at someone like him – not that he wanted her to, either. Daryl shook his head, running his hands through his hair, feeling like an idiot. He was at least twice her age and well, he was him. There was nothing desirable about him, and that was the way he liked it really. He was most content alone.

Beth watched him go, his head down. She had been proud of herself, proud of her shots. So she was confused as she watched him go... their session had ended prematurely, in her opinion. She wondered if she had offended him, if he had suddenly decided or realised he had made a mistake in engaging her. Maybe she had been so bad with the gun he had given up instantly. Beth glanced down at the gun in her hand.  
_I'll practice by myself,_ she thought  _then I can show him I'm worth teaching._ _  
_ So she turned back to the board, raising the gun again.

Daryl heard the gunshots as he headed back to the prison. A wave of guilt washed over him. Maybe he had been wrong in walking away. His social skills were not the greatest, and when in doubt he preferred to walk away. He kept walking as another shot punctuated the air.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

The shambling corpses gathering outside the prison perimeters were much like mosquito's to Daryl, buzzing around the fences, irritating him. The repetition of plunging his knife into their soft skulls was a daily recurrence which had ingrained itself into his routine much like the way he would subconsciously swat away a midge. He didn't mind the job, it kept him active, allowed him to let out any aggression as well as allowing his mind to relax. The walker's couldn't get in, but if enough of them piled against the fence itself, there was a chance it would collapse, so here he was, watching them crumple at his feet. Rotting blood was spurting out and over him, over his shirt. As he tore his knife out of a young female's skull, letting her fall in a heap at the bottom of the fence, he heard his name being called. Wiping the knife on the leg of his pants, he turned to see Hershel approaching.

'How's it going?' Hershel said, holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun.

'Fine,' Daryl said, taking a step away from the fence where another walker reached through in an attempt to grab him.

'Beth told me you showed her how to shoot,' Hershel said.

Daryl narrowed his eyes slightly, attempting to read him. His stomach had twisted as Hershel had spoke, wondering what Beth had said to her father. Anxiety gnawed at him as he waited for Hershel for continue.

'I'm glad,' he said, 'she needs to know how to defend herself.'

'Right,' Daryl said, feeling the tension release.

'If you could continue to do so, I would be grateful,' he said, 'I wont always be around to care for my girls, I need to know they can take care of their self. And Maggie, she's capable, plus she's got Glenn.'

'Mhm,' Daryl said, wary. 'I don' know if i'm the best t' teach-'

'Well, I'd appreciate it, and lord knows she could do with the lessons,' Hershel replied.

Daryl nodded.

'Alright, well I'll leave you to it then,' he said, nodding towards the walker that was still trying to reach through the fence.

Daryl nodded once. He couldn't see himself being the best teacher... he had foolishly offered before, because he had felt indebted to her, but he hadn't been very good. He wasn't a people person, but he respected Hershel, so he felt bad ignoring his request. Glenn was with Maggie so maybe he should help Beth, he was closer to her... but then Glenn wasn't the strongest fighter. Rick, he was good, but he didn't have the time to teach kids... He was the best hunter, there was no question about that. He smiled to himself as he plunged his knife into yet another rotting skull. It was just his social skills that were lacking... but that wasn't an issue, in his opinion. It had never bothered him.

Carol, he thought. Carol could teach her. She was warm and friendly – she had coaxed him out of his shell. Plus he had taught her plenty and she was a good shot – a great shot. He made a mental note to ask her.

Daryl found Carol a couple of hours later, in the prison common room. He made his way to her and sat beside her.

'I've got a favour t'ask yer.' He said, deciding to get straight to it.

'Alright,' Carol said, eyeing him up and down.

'Hershel asked me t'teach Beth t'fight,' he grunted, 'but I though' you'd be a better suit.'

Carol looked at him for a while, her face pensive.

'Why?'

'Why wha'?' Daryl frowned.

'Why me?' Carol asked. 'You're a much better fighter than I am.'

'You're just as good,' he shrugged, making her laugh it off. 'And you're better at... y'now.'

'At what, Daryl?' Carol asked. Her eyes were glittering with her smile.

'Y'know... people' he shrugged.

Carol chuckled.

'You know,' she said, leaning back to look at him, taking him in, 'I think it will be good for you.'

'Nah,' Daryl shook his head, frowning, 'jus' be awkward for both o' us.'

'You're the better fighter and hunter of us,' Carol said, 'and some social interaction will do you good.'

Daryl grunted. He wasn't sure whether Carol was messing with him or not, but he could see she had made up her mind either way.

'Fine,' he gruffed, getting up.

'Where're you going?' Carol laughed.

'T'find Beth, then,' he groaned, making Carol raise her eyebrows in surprise.

. . .

Beth was laying on her bed, reading a book she had found in the prison library. The prison was quiet around her and her eyes were beginning to droop as she found herself re-reading the same line over and over. She lay her book down on her chest and shut her eyes, putting her arms over her face. Sleeping didn't come easy these days, everything was always so tense, so scary. Even now, in the prison, indoors and with guards on duty 24/7, she still found herself waking up in the night in a fit of panic. It hadn't been so bad when she had been at home; when the world had gone to hell, they had avoided the worst of it on their farm, away from the big cities and the large population. That had changed after the farm was overrun; their nights out in the open still haunted her.

Two light taps jolted her back awake, causing her heart to jump into her throat. She sat up, looking around.

'Hey,' Daryl's deep voice grunted from the doorway, surprising her.

'Daryl!' Beth gasped, her hand holding her chest, as if she was trying to keep her heart in check.

'So've'ya ever shot a cross bow before?' he said, looking at her through his hair.

'I – no,' Beth said, confused, 'I haven't.'

'C'mon,' he said, 'I'ma teach ya.'

'What? Really?' Beth said.

Daryl nodded slowly, so Beth got up from her bed, smoothing the back of her jeans down. Daryl nodded to her, then turned around to leave. Beth followed him, her heart in her throat. She was beyond confused. The last time they had been together he had left abruptly, leaving Beth feeling like she had done something wrong. She hadn't seen him for a few days, so him turning up at her door was unexpected to say the least.

'So,' Daryl said, as they made their way out of the prison, 'y'dad asked me to teach ya to survive.'

'Oh,' Beth said. She had mentioned the shooting practice to her father, but she hadn't expected him to speak to Daryl about it. It had just been a passing comment.

'You don't have to teach me just because my daddy...' Beth said, feeling awkward.

Daryl just shrugged beside her.

They made the rest of the way down to the prison grounds in silence, both feeling awkward.

Daryl was trying to ignore the awkward tension he could feel radiating from the young girl. He was going to help her learn to survive, which was an essential skill, and he was doing it for her dad, who he respected. That wasn't a bad thing.

Beth was inwardly panicking at what her Daddy had said - had he painted her to be a weak, fragile girl who needed protecting? Did Daryl think she was a gossipy little girl, running to her father. Her cheeks were burning once they stopped.

'Okay,' Daryl said, stopping. He was looking down at the crossbow which he was holding loosely in his hand. After a moment, he held it out to Beth, who looked down at it tentatively.

'Grab it here,' he said, pointing at the longest part, then he deftly twisted it around in his one hand, so it was facing his own chest. Beth carefully took it. It was as heavy as it looked, and her arms dropped a little.  
''kay, hold it up, look down here,' Daryl pointed, 'aim for that tree.'

Beth squinted one eye shut, looking down the bow. It was heavy in her arms, and she felt racked with nerves at the closeness of Daryl. That he had entrusted her with his crossbow was shocking enough, but having him there watching her use it terrified her.

'G'on,' Daryl said softly.

Beth pulled the trigger, completely missing the tree.

'Sorry,' she said, biting her lip.

Daryl just shook his head as if to say no worries, then went to fetch the bolt. As he came back, he put his hand out for the crossbow. Beth watched, impressed, as he dug it into the ground by his foot to reload it, the muscles in his arms straining against his skin.

'Right,' he said, motioning for her to come towards him. Beth gingerly obeyed, as he handed the crossbow back to her. This time, however, he placed his hands on her arms, holding them steady. He helped her aim, then breathed, 'go,' in her ear. His breath tickled her ear and the back of her neck, sending a shiver which ran its way all the way down her body, curling in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed hard, attempting to ignore it, and fired. The bolt just about landed in the tree, but incredibly off-center.

'Better,' Daryl said, stepping back, 'le' me show ya how to reload it.'

Beth nodded, watching as he took another bolt from behind him and loaded it on.

They continued to practice for some time, until Beth felt a little more confident in her abilities.

'Y'wanna learn how t' track?' Daryl asked her. He had been learning against a tree, his arms folded across his chest, watching her.

'Sure!' Beth said, feeling more eager now as her confidence grew.

'I'll take ya out,' Daryl said, taking the crossbow back from her, 'jus' beyond into those woods there.' He nodded towards them with his head.

A prickle of fear ran through Beth as she glanced out to the woods. But she would be with Daryl and they wouldn't go far; there was no real danger.

So she found herself heading out of the gates, keeping close behind Daryl as he picked off a few straggling walkers which had been milling around outside the prison. Once they entered the cover of the hedgerow, Daryl removed the crossbow from himself, and handed it back to Beth.

'Alright,' he said, 'what'd'ya see?'

Beth looked around, not really seeing anything. The trees were thick around them, the sounds of the bushes and leaves moving in the wind and rubbing together were unnerving. She looked down at the floor, scanning the mud.

'Oh!' she gasped quietly, 'footsteps!'

She looked up at Daryl, who was nodding at her. She crouched down to examine the markings on the forest floor. The leaves had been disturbed in sections, imprints of a shoe pressing into the wetter mud beneath. As Beth looked, she noticed the print was smudged, as if the floor had been dragged. She looked around, noticing the way the leaves were scraped in a line, before spotting a similar indentation in the mud nearby.

'It's a walker,' she said, looking up at Daryl.

'Yeah,' he grunted, seemingly pleased.

Beth followed the marks, getting more and more excited with every new one she spotted. After a while, in which she kept close to the ground, making sure she really was following a trail, with Daryl following almost silently behind her, she spotted the walker a little way off. It was crouched down, gorging itself on some fallen animal. Excited, Beth raised the crossbow to the cheek, looking down its length. She stepped forward, keeping the walker in sight, the bolt aimed for its head. She took another step when suddenly a searing pain shot up her leg, and her weight was taken from under her. She cried out, causing the walker to look up, and then head towards her.

She had stumbled into a bear trap, hidden in the leaves. Her ankle was caught between the metal, the searing pain throbbing its way up her entire leg. Quickly, she picked up the crossbow and aimed it at the walker, but she shot a sloppy shot and missed it completely. Panic quickly rose in her chest as the walker descended on her. Suddenly, Daryl was there, he pounced on the walking corpse and plunged his knife into its head. The two of them tumbled down to the forest floor, where Daryl removed his knife from the head of the walker.

'Beth,' he panted, pulling himself from the walker, ''m so sorry, I should'a seen-' he yanked the metal clamps apart, allowing Beth to remove her foot from the trap.

'Can ya move it?' he said.

Beth circled it very slowly, feeling the jolts of pain rocket up her shin bone.

'A little,' she said through gritted teeth, 'I don't think it's broken.'

Daryl stood up and held his hand out to Beth, which she took. Once she was on her feet, she realised she could not put any pressure on her foot.

'C'mere,' Daryl said, wrapping his strong arm around her waist. Beth leaned into him, using him as support, as he slowly helped her make her way back out of the forest. They hadn't gotten very far before Daryl realised the strain the injury was putting on the young girl. She was breathing fast and heavily and a sheen of sweat had broken out over her face.

'Wait,' he said, stopping, 'C'mere.' He turned around and crouched slightly, putting his arms out behind him.

'What?' Beth looked at him, confused, 'seriously?'

'Yeah,' he said, turning to look at her over his shoulder, 'it's a serious piggy back.'

With a considerable amount of effort, Beth got up onto his back. Daryl hitched her up, locking his hands beneath her. They made their way back to the prison in this fashion, Beth feeling completely foolish. Her ankle throbbed though, so her embarrassment was clouded by the haze of pain. She was also painfully aware of how close she was to Daryl, with her legs wrapped around his middle. As the prison came into sight, Daryl shifted her weight to raise one hand to the sentry tower. The couple of walkers out there were picked off by someone within the camp, and then the doors dragged open.

Unsurprisingly, Maggie was first on the scene.

'What happened?' she demanded, throwing Daryl an accusatory look.

'I caught my leg in a bear trap,' Beth explained from over Daryl's shoulder, 'it's my fault.'

'What were you doing outside!' Maggie said forcefully, her eyes still trained on Daryl.

'Daddy asked Daryl to teach me to hunt.' Beth said, then added 'I'm in a lot of pain Maggie, I need to get indoors.'

'Of course,' Maggie said, 'can you walk? Let me help you.'

'I got her,' Daryl said, walking past Maggie with Beth still on his back. Maggie looked after them, wide eyed for a moment, then jogged to catch up with them.

'I thought you were supposed to be looking after her, Daryl,' she said as they entered the prison.

'I kno', I'm sorry, I di'n't see the trap,' he said.

'Not a very good tracker then, are you,' Maggie said, stroking her sister's face as they waked.

'It wasn't his fault at all, Maggie.' Beth said, 'he's helped me, he carried me all the way home.'

'Hmm,' Maggie looked Daryl up and down, then turned back to Beth, 'At least you're safe. Daddy will see to your ankle. You'll be just fine.'

Beth nodded.

Her father reinstated that the ankle was not broken, but it was swollen, and would need to be rested for a fair amount of time. Which meant no more target practice for a little while, he had laughed. He had bandaged her foot up tightly, fairly unfazed by the injury to his youngest daughter. All the while, both Maggie and Daryl had stayed with her, Maggie busying around, making sure she really was okay, while Daryl stood more detached further back.

'Thank you for getting her home,' Hershel had said to him, 'I prescribe a few days of bed rest, little miss,' he had said to Beth, gently patting her shoulder.

So Beth found herself back on her bed, this time with her ankle bandaged up and swollen. The pain was still there, but tolerable now. Maggie had fussed around her for a little while, but eventually left her alone, alone with her thoughts. Hunting in the woods with Daryl had been interesting, while it lasted. He had seemed more relaxed with her, more in his element out in the forest. The more time Beth spent with him, even in these very small doses, the more she realised he wasn't as abrasive or intimidating as she had first thought. He was a lone wolf, preferring his own company to anyone else's, and that was fine, she thought before she drifted off to sleep; he wasn't a bad guy.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

Beth was fed up. It had been a week since her accident in the forest with Daryl, but her father had kept her on strict bed rest. The swelling in her foot had gone down considerably so she had been allowed to walk on it now, but he rarely let her out of his sight, insisting all her meals be taken in her cell room. People came to visit her plenty, but staring at the same four walls was beginning to drive her mad. She hadn't seen Daryl since the accident either, which she found disappointed her a little, but she had seen plenty of Axel.

He had been in and out of the cell the past few days, making small talk about Judith and the farm, asking her about herself, asking her age.

'So, pretty young girl like you, must have had plenty of boyfriends before all o' this, huh,' Axel had said to her before he had left. Beth had smiled awkwardly, praying he would leave soon.

'Not really,' she had smiled.

It was Daryl who had finally saved the day, much to the chagrin of Axel, but the unexpected, yet joyful surprise of herself. Axel had stalked away, eyeing up Daryl before he did so.

'What're you doing here?' Beth asked Daryl, 'come to break my other ankle?'

'S'not broken,' Daryl said, giving her half a smile, 'nah, brought you food, came t' check you were okay, I mean, s'kinda my fault.'

'No it isn't,' Beth said, smiling up at him, 'I didn't look. Thank you, though.' She reached out to take the plate off of him. He nodded, beginning to turn away.

'Stay!' Beth implored quickly before he left, 'I mean, I'd like some company. If you want to.'

Daryl turned to look at her, his eyes searching her face. Then he shrugged, and came further into the room. Beth scooted over on her bed, then patted the space beside her. He seemed to deliberate for a moment, before sitting down beside her, leaving a considerable amount of space between them. She sat back, her back against the wall, while he sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees, chewing at the skin around his thumbnail.

'So how're things, in the prison?' Beth asked, a little stiffly.

Daryl shrugged. 'They're fine.'

'Hm, no news is good news,' she said, smiling. He didn't look round at her.

'How's your side?' she asked. Daryl nodded.

'S'fine,' he said, 'healed up well. Y'did a good job,' he turned round to look at her. Daryl wasn't a big fan of smiling, Beth had gathered, but the intensity of his looks were almost enough. His face, whilst guarded, was honest, and Beth felt like he would never lie to her.

'I'm glad,' she said, nodding. Then, whilst he was still looking at her, she pushed, 'how did you do it, anyway?'

Daryl sighed and turned away, running a hand down his face.

'I was trackin',' he grunted, stroking his beard, 'Floor was slipp'ry from th' rain, a walker, half a walker, no legs, y'know,' he turned to looked at her again, waving his hands at his own legs as if to let Beth know what he meant by legs - she nodded for him - 'they were buried under some leaves and mud an' shit, I di'n' see 'em, reached out, grabbed m' ankle,' he mimed a walker reaching out, 'I went down, got away but fell further, int'a this big ol' nasty rock, all jagged. Sliced righ' through m'side, fucker.' He grimaced as he said it, running his finger in a slicing motion across where his wound had been.

'Sounds nasty,' Beth said, grimacing herself.  
'Could'a been worse,' he shrugged.

'Could'a been bit,' Beth said, to which Daryl nodded solemnly.

'So looks like we both need to look where we're going.' She chuckled, wriggling the toes of her bandaged foot. Daryl turned to look at her, and gave her a smile. It crinkled his eyes, but it made him look so much younger – almost handsome, even. The strange feelings Beth had occasionally gotten from their interactions had been founded in the intimacy of his touches, so out of place in this world, but his smile elicited something different. His face changed, and Beth found she liked it.

'So,' Daryl said, clearing his throat as he turned to stare back at the wall in front of them, 'what's with Axel?'

'Urgh,' Beth groaned, 'he keeps coming to see me, I think he, you know, fancies me or something,' she blushed as he said it. Daryl nodded slowly.

'You don't-?' he said slowly.

'What? No!' She laughed, 'god, no, he's creepy, and gross.' She shuddered.

Daryl nodded, then got up off of the bed.

'Alright,' he said, 'you heal up.'

'Do you have to go?' Beth asked.

Daryl looked at her, searching her face. She looked up at him with her big blue eyes, her blonde eyebrows raised as she questioned him. She seemed so genuine, so sweet.

'I mean,' she added, looking down at the plate on her lap, 'Daddy's put me on bed rest... it gets pretty lonely.'

'Y'family don't come see ya?' Daryl asked.

'Oh no they do!' Beth said, looking up again, 'but they're busy a lot.'

'Okay,' Daryl said, and he sat back down beside her, which made Beth unreasonably happy.

'So, tell me about you, Mr Dixon,' she smiled, feeling brave now he had decided to stay, 'what was your life like before the fall?'

Daryl shrugged.

'There's nothin' t' tell,' he said, but Beth could trace an uneasiness in his voice, 'Jus' a lowlife redneck.'

Beth frowned.

'Do you miss anything about before?' she asked, careful not to upset or offend him. He seemed tense all of a sudden.

Daryl shrugged again. It seemed as though he was constantly trying to shrug her off.

'I miss m'brother,' he admitted.

'Your brother,' Beth said, nodding, 'Merle, right?'

'Uhuh,' Daryl nodded, slowly. 'How 'bout you?' he asked, and Beth sensed he didn't want to talk about himself.

'I miss my horses,' she said sadly, 'I miss riding them, the freedom, the speed, you know?'

'Kind'a like m'motorbike,' Daryl said, pensive.

'Yeah!' Beth said, pleased he was engaging, 'yeah I guess it is. Will you take me for a ride?' she teased. Daryl turned to look at her again. He watched her for a moment, his dark eyes moving from each of her own.

'Okay.' he said. 'When you're healed up.' he nodded at her foot.

'Great,' she grinned, not really expecting him to adhere to that.

'Wha' else?' he asked.

'I miss my bedroom,' she sighed, 'it's great having a roof and a bed here, don't get me wrong, but I miss having my own stuff - my own comforts.' She paused, lost in the memory of her large double bed, white wrought iron frame, fairy lights wrapped around the bars, 'and bubble baths,' she said. 'I miss bathing.'

'Bathin'?' Daryl mused, 'we got showers.'

'It isn't the same,' Beth smiled, 'Engulfing yourself in the warm, soapy water. Being completely and utterly surrounded by it, the warmth. It's relaxing, blissful, just lying there, all by yourself, close your eyes, float away.' Beth had shut her own eyes as she spoke, but the clearing of a throat broke through her daydream.

Maggie was standing in the door way, one eyebrow raised.

'What's going on, you two?' she asked.

'Maggie,' Beth said, a little flatly, 'Daryl brought me food.'

'Oh good,' Maggie said, 'good.'

'I'll leave you two t'talk, or whatever,' Daryl said, getting up. He nodded at Maggie, who watched him closely, as he headed for the door.

'Daryl,' Beth said, before he left, 'thanks for staying.'

Daryl smiled at her again, said 'hope ya heal up fast,' and then left.

Maggie stood for a little while before taking his place.

'So, you're thawing the ice statue that is Daryl Dixon?' Maggie teased, leaning herself back up against the wall.

'No,' Beth laughed, 'we just got to talking. He's quite sweet, actually.'

'You sweet little thing,' Beth's sister said, leaning over and taking Beth's chin in her hand, 'you see the goodness in everybody.'

'Stop,' Beth said, pulling away, but she laughed anyway.

'So you like yourself a bit of surly redneck, do ya?' Maggie teased, 'the brooding, filthy type do it for you?'

'Maggie!' Beth cried, 'stop! I'm just being friendly, he's old enough to be my dad.'

'Too right,' Maggie laughed back, dropping it. But Beth felt uncomfortable as she picked at the cold food Daryl had brought her. Daryl seemed to have a strange effect over her, it wasn't strong and it wasn't serious, but she often felt like her mouth was dry, or full of cotton-wool, whenever she spoke to him. Her heart always raced at the sight of him, and strange knots formed in her stomach.

 _It's just because he's so much older_ she told herself, as Maggie chatted away about something or other,  _and he's so fierce and intimidating. I'm bound to be put out by him._ __  
  
But she hadn't entirely convinced herself. And that smile earlier – she had never looked at Daryl as an attractive man... the scowl, the hair! But that smile had awoken something in her, something that only added fuel to the smouldering fire which he had already set. She swallowed down the cold food and tried to forget it. She was being ridiculous. She guessed the end of the world could have that effect on a girl.

. . .

Daryl wandered down the prison grounds, looking for Rick. He knew a run was going to be needed to be undertaken soon, so he wanted to figure out what the plan was, and whether he was needed. He liked going on runs, getting out into the open for a while, being by himself, using his brain, his body. It refreshed him, made him feel alive, useful.

'Hey,' a voice broke through his own thoughts, causing him to look up. He glanced up through his hair, to see Axel standing in front of him. He was standing there, his hands in the pockets of his blue prison uniform, rocking slightly onto the balls of his feet.

'Daryl, right?' he said.

'Uhuh,' Daryl grunted, looking the man up and down.

''bout earlier,' he said, 'I didn't realise she was already called for.'

'Huh?' Daryl was confused. He looked up, raising his chin.

'The pretty young'un' Axel said, 'I wouldn't have pursued her if I'd known she belonged to you.'

'What?' said Daryl, narrowing his eyes. He could feel anger bubbling in his chest as recognition began to set in.

'I'm not that kind of guy,' Axel said sincerely, looking purposefully at Daryl, 'I never meant to tread on no toes.'

Daryl ground his teeth together for a minute, taking Axel in.

'She's a pretty little one, though,' Axel continued, still rocking on his toes, 'nice blonde, young. S'Shame you got there first,' he laughed, gruffly, 'no hard feelings though, aye?'

Daryl clenched his fists and took a step closer to Axel.

'Y' stay away from her,' Daryl said, through gritted teeth.

'S'fine, I got it,' Axel said, shrugging.

Suddenly, Daryl found his hands curled into fists, a handful of Axel's white shirt scrunched up in them.

'She's a kid,' he growled, 'and she don't belong to no-one.'

'You mean she's not your-' Axel stammered.

'She aint my nuffin',' Daryl snapped, 'and she aint yours either.'

Axel spluttered, his face flushing red.

'She aint a piece of meat to be fought over,' he snapped, 'I see you talking to her again-'

'What's the big deal?' Axel cried, 'If she aint yours then what's the problem? She's old enough, and come on, there's not exactly much choice 'round 'ere.'

Daryl forcefully let go of the man, leaving him to stumble backwards, only just regaining his balance. He turned away from him, taking in a deep breath, running his hands down his face. His blood was boiling. He blew out the breath he had been holding, attempting to calm himself. He was being ridiculous, but the red mist had already descended.

'If she aint claimed-'

Daryl spun round, his fist connecting with Axel's chin. The blonde man stumbled backwards, clutching his chin, his face twisted into a mask of pain. Before he could even say anything, Daryl was on him again, landing another punch just under his eye.

'You stay – th' fuck – away from her!' He growled, as his force knocked Axel to the ground. The haze of anger which had not affronted him for a long, long time, ever since Rick had taken him in, had descended, shrouding his sanity, removing logic entirely from the situation. All he could see was Axel's slimy, greasy face, all he could hear were the filth that had poured from his mouth – 'pretty young'un', 'little' – it made him sick to his stomach to see him leering over her like that. Beth was kind and sweet and innocent – everything this man wasn't.

'Wha' were you in for?!' Daryl yelled, grabbing the man's collar and slamming his head down into the ground, 'aye? Why'd you get put away?'

'I liked ma – pharmaceuticals!' Axel cried.

Daryl did not hear the footsteps hurriedly approaching the scene, nor did he hear the raised voices, or acknowledge the presence until someone had grabbed his shoulders and was pulling him back, pulling him up off of the man beneath him. As he staggered to his feet and he spun around to advance on whoever had grabbed him, anger clouding his vision – until he saw Carol.

'What the hell is going on here?'

That was Rick's voice, punctuating the tension that surrounded them, cutting through the moans of the man who still lay spread-eagled in the mud, clutching his face and groaning.

'Daryl,' Rick's voice was firm, laced with anger, but his eyes were sober as he looked at Daryl. He trusted him. As the anger faded away, guilt washed over Daryl at the realization of what had happened.

'What the hell are you doing,' Carol demanded, staring at Daryl just as sternly. He felt like a lectured child.

'Mad man attacked me,' Axel cried from the mud below them, 'jumped on me, hitting me, hitting me!'

'Shu' up,' Daryl spat, 'he was implying...' Daryl ran a hand over his face, pausing to scratch at his scraggly beard, 'he was go'n' after Beth,' he spat.

'Beth?' Carol said, looking down at the man still on the ground.

'That true?' Rick said.

'I – no, I thought she was with him!' Axel glared up at Daryl through puffy eyes which were beginning to bruise.

'I've seen you talking to her, asking her age,' Carol said, her voice thin and dangerous, 'I didn't trust you myself.'

'No,' Rick shook his head, then ran a hand through his own scraggly hair, 'but this aint no way to sort it.'

'I know.' Daryl huffed.

'You were protecting her,' Carol said, then she looked him up and down, her deep gaze seeming to read him, scrutinize him. Daryl felt incredibly uncomfortable all of a sudden. 'Why?'

'We need t' have a calm discussion 'bout this,' Rick said, turning to look at Daryl, 'and you two need t' keep away from each other.'

'No worries there,' Axel said, finally pulling himself up from the floor.

'Nah,' said Daryl, 'I'ma outta here for a couple'a days.'

'I don't think that's so wise,' Rick said, 'you don't seem in the right frame o' mind.'

'Rick's right,' Carol said, 'stay here, cool down.'

'I can cool down better out there,' he huffed, then he turned away from them.

'Daryl,' Carol called after him, but he heard Rick say 'let him go.'

He stalked away, shaking his fists out as he went, releasing the built up tension from them. He had acted irrationally, had acted like he used to. Beth was nothing to him, why had he jumped to her defence so drastically? He didn't like Axel, had distrusted him from the start, maybe this had been an altercation waiting to happen, Beth was just the catalyst. The pent up rage and frustration had flowed freely from him, Axel was just an unsuspecting target. But he weren't going to apologise, no way. The guy was a creep, a low life, just another redneck scum... but maybe that was why he made Daryl so angry. He was him.

 _No,_ Daryl shook his head as he headed for the main gate,  _I'm nothing like him._

But maybe he was. The thought of Axel leering over Beth had made his skin crawl, had sent waves of anger through his entire body, settling and boiling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't just because Beth was a kid, a kid he felt somewhat responsible for – no, it was because the thought of him with her and aroused another type of feeling in him. Which had led to yet another feeling – Beth's opinion of Axel.  _Creepy, Gross._ If Axel was the double of himself, and Axel had elicited that response from Beth, then it was safe to assume he elicited a similar response from her himself. He wasn't sure how that made him feel – unsurprised, for one. The only way he could deal with it was the only way he knew how, the way he had grown up, the way Merle had taught him – with his fists. So he had laid into Axel until he could no longer recognize his own face in the other man's. It was stupid and it was reckless but it made sense to him. Yet as he headed out of the prison and into the wooded area beyond, he found himself wondering what Beth's reaction would be to the news. A nauseous wave of fear passed over him, before he yanked his crossbow out and over his shoulder, ready to block the entire day out.

  



End file.
